


The Desperation of a Tired Father

by addicted_2_fandoms



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Cute, First Kiss, Fluff, Greg is Sweet, Gregory Lestrade is a Dad, M/M, Mycroft Holmes IS the British Government, Mycroft To The Rescue, Mycroft is Sweet, Mycroft is a Softie, Not Canon Compliant, Not meet-cute, Parentlock, they already know each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:35:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28087836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addicted_2_fandoms/pseuds/addicted_2_fandoms
Summary: Greg really needs to get home for Christmas, he gets help from an unexpected person. Who knew Sherlock's prickly was so (prince) charming? But he was not a damsel in distress, damnit!Based on the prompt - Someone resorts to desperate measures to get home for Christmas.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	The Desperation of a Tired Father

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, some more cute fics, from me? With no angst?????? Who am I??????? Haha if you enjoyed please leave kudos and comments! 
> 
> Also a huge thank you kind soul who added me into the Mystrade Holiday 2020 collection (I'm like famous now!!!! haha), it was awesome to see and I'm so honoured

“Hey, hey, you can't do this. I am part of the police force, sir. Please, I just need to get home.”

The voice sounded oddly familiar to Mycroft, who was just about to board his jet. He waved on Anthea, instructing her to get on the jet and that he would be there in just a moment. 

“Detective?” Mycroft asked, more than a hint of surprise in his voice at seeing the man standing in handcuffs and arguing with a police officer.

The officer paled at the word  _ detective _ but kept the handcuffs on and didn’t make any moves to release Greg. “Hi Mycroft.” He winced, half-smiling at the man and severely embarrassed to have been caught in this position by Sherlock’s brother. 

“What seems to be going on, officer?” Mycroft raised an eyebrow, making sure the man understood that he was not to be messed with. 

“U-um.” He looked like he might faint for a moment, before straightening himself up. “I am not obligated to tell you, nor am I allowed legally. Innocent until proven guilty.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow before noting down the man’s badge number and searching his commanding officer, before finding it and threatening to call him. 

“W-who are you?” 

“I occupy a minor position in the British Government.” Mycroft replied.

“More like you  _ are _ the British Government.” Gregory scoffed under his breath. Mycroft hid a smile and motioned impatiently at the handcuffs, causing the poor officer, who was just doing his job, to sputter and remove the handcuffs, before all but running off. 

“Why, thank you Mr Holmes.” Gregory stuck his hand out and Mycroft gripped it back, just as tight.

“No need for formalities Inspector, call me Mycroft.” He smiled.

“Call me Greg in that case.” He smiled back, earlier tension forgotten and looking relaxed.

“Okay Gregory.” Greg didn’t bother to argue, knowing it was futile against a Holmes’ brother. 

“Now, what happened, why were  _ you  _ arrested?” Mycroft exclaimed, slightly shocked. 

The panic seemed to flood Greg’s body again. “Snowstorm, no planes can leave, need to get home for Christmas, babysitter leaving.” His breathing got heavier and his mental functions slowed down. 

“Okay, breathe Gregory, follow me.” He exaggerated his breaths, cupping Greg’s chin to face him. 

Greg’s breathing came back into control, his eyes focusing on Mycroft’s face. 

“I need to get home in time for Christmas, the babysitter has to get home and I can’t leave my daughter alone. The flights have all been grounded save for emergency flights and I  _ need _ to get home.”

“Is there anyone else who could watch her?” Mycrfot asked, already making arrangements in his head.

Greg shook his head, “nah, mum’s out of the picture, my parents are on holiday, no friends really know about her.”

“What about John? At least until you get back?” 

He pondered for a moment, before nodding his head and grabbing out his phone. “Only chance I’ve got. It’ll be fine.” Mycroft waited for him to make the call, watching as the man paced back and forth the airport. 

He looked a lot calmer as he walked over to his luggage, although was still on edge and failed to hide the surprise plastered on his face, that Mycroft was still standing next to his belongings.

“Haven’t you got a flight to catch?” He asked concerned. 

“Well I was thinking you’d catch it with me, after all, we’re both going back to London, aren’t we?” 

“Yeah, but I don’t have a ticket?” Greg was standing, looking confused by the whole situation.

“You don’t need one, I’m the British Government, remember?” He smirks at Greg. 

Greg looks dumbfounded, before nodding eagerly.

“I can’t thank you enough Mycroft, um, shall we go?” Mycroft startles for a second, before motioning to his gate. 

“Have you got any other luggage you checked in?” 

“Uh, no.” Greg rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Don’t trust it not to get lost, besides I was only gone a few nights and I wanted to leave the airport as soon as possible.”

Mycroft smiles warmly at him, surprising them both/ “Well then, we should go.”

He reaches out his hand to grab something off Greg, not expecting a hand to interlace with his. However he’s not upset when Greg doesn’t let go and they traipse through the airport together.

Anthea doesn’t make comment about their interlocked hands as they board the plane, nor about the fact that Mycroft has just brought a stragalong with him and Greg tries not to think too hard about it. He hopes she’s just fantastic at her job, not that he’d done this 10 times before.  _ But why would he care? _

Mycroft offers him a whiskey as they sit down in their respective seats, sipping it in silence as Greg takes in his surroundings, too tired to be properly impressed. Although after a nap, he’s sure that he’ll be more stunned at the whole experience. He’d never imagined Mycrof would be his knight in shining-  _ he’s not a damsel in distress, goddamnit. _ Actually, he was, he supposes. 

“Thank you.” He finally says after a long run of silence.

“Mmm.” Mycroft looks up, not expecting any talking, let alone those words. “Of course Gregory.”

Greg smiles fondly back at him, pleased that the man seemed to think that there was no other option, like he couldn't think of leaving Greg there, like he mattered.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter Gregory.” Mycroft speaks after a moment.

“You didn’t deduce that about me already?” He laughs, raising an eyebrow.

Realising the other man was joking, Mycroft laughed along. “Of course not Gregory.” He turned his nose up, acting snotty.

“I don’t do the legwork.”

This caused Greg to crack up even more and left both men laughing like idiots in the back of the plane. The whiskey and conversation flowed easily from there, Mycroft talking about Sherlock’s younger years, with inputs from Greg and Gregory explaining his wife and the divorce. It turned more somber at that point and a second bottle was cracked open.

The hours on the plane passed like minutes and all too soon they were leaving the plane. Both men seemed hesitant to let the other out of their presence, staring into each other’s eyes for a little too long. 

Greg cleared his throat, startling them both. “Do you have plans for Christmas?”

Mycroft laughed. “You mean, in a couple of hours?” He asked, checking his watch.

“Yeah, then.”

“No.” He looked bittersweet, as he sighed out the word.

“How would you like to come over? My daughter won’t mind. We won’t have any fancy food, probably just take out, but the offer’s out there.”

Mycroft looked like he was about to refuse for a moment, before shocking them both by saying, “yes. That sounds wonderful.”

Greg smiled at him once more, before turning to leave. Mycroft caught his arm, before he could have the chance to do so and pulled him in, bringing their lips into a searing kiss. You know the cliche about fireworks and butterflies? They were real, Mycroft thought.

Greg pulled back, resting his hand against Mycroft’s and panting softly. “As much as I loved that, I really do have to go now. See you in a few hours?”

Mycroft scrunched his nose teasingly. “Do shower first.”

“I’m not a heathen.”

Both laughed, taking in the warmth of each other for one moment more, before Greg remembered the time. 

“I really do have to go this time.” Greg laughed, before pecking Mycroft once more and running off. 

Mycroft stood, daftly not moving for a good few minutes, touching his lips like a highschool girl after their first kiss, only whispering to the fleeing detective. “See you in a few hours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, please do request fic ideas for these two (I also do Johnlock), I'm kinda boreddddd, so yeah! Kudos and comments appreciated!


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